Weasleys In America
by weasleywheezes
Summary: A collection of short stories focusing on the Weasley children. Each child will have his own chapter (Fred and George share theirs). COMPLETED!
1. Bill

Weasleys In America  
  
DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction featuring characters in the Harry Potter series of books. I am not affiliated with J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., Scholastic, or any other large corporation with marketing or licensing rights to the Harry Potter universe.  
  
~~  
  
He cut an odd figure through the feverishly dancing crowd, this tall, handsome man with blazing red hair pulled back into a smooth ponytail. He had a strange fang-shaped earring dangling from his ear. He wore a body-hugging black turtleneck, black pinstriped trousers, interesting black leather boots, and a pair of chromed aviator glasses. He was at least six foot tall, and took obvious care of himself. With a cocky swagger, in time with the bass heavy trance music, he walked among the crowd, where he heard a handful of loud, lustful moans from girls in the club and even a few of the guys.  
  
He held a crumpled looking picture of his target in his hand. The man had a long, narrow face, sallow skin, and dark hair and eyes. "Seen him?" he asked the patrons, all of whom shook their head no and continued to dance. He kept a watch from behind those sleek glasses. He had to find that negligent Squib, and these loud, smoky dance clubs were the best way to do it.  
  
The goblins were counting on Bill Weasley, but he had never let them down before. Seven years ago, he was promoted from curse breaker in Egypt to what Muggles would call a repo man. He finished his training in South Africa, then worked for a year in Scotland before being called to America. Bill's cool nerves under pressure helped him greatly, and his gifted ways with a wand made him a valuable asset for Gringotts' Bank. Able to get even the craftiest of debtors in any situation – even around Muggles – Bill Weasley was the number one man in his department.  
  
This was Bill's second year in the United States, a hotbed of loan delinquency. He was to be in America for three years, and then he would be able to return to England. He maintained an apartment near Gringotts' Headquarters in Boston, MA, but he rarely stayed there. The goblins kept him constantly busy. This was his third trip to the West Coast in as many weeks.  
  
Bill scanned the crowd once more. He knew that his contacts hadn't lied to him – he knew that the Squib, Bargelmesser, was here, but where? He made his way toward the back of the club. Bill took a deep breath, but choked on it. The Muggles in California all smelled of cigarettes and expensive perfume. He couldn't wait until he could get back to his clean, orderly apartment in Boston.  
  
Bill noticed a shifty looking man near the men's bathroom staring in his direction. He locked eyes with him, trying to discern whether this was the Squib he was looking for. The man broke into a run. Bill followed behind, and the two were soon in the alleyway behind the nightclub.  
  
"Bargelmesser! Stop! Stop, you!" Bill yelled.  
  
"No! I know who you are!" The man huffed and puffed and leapt to the roof of the building. Bill was quick to pursue.  
  
"Freeze!" Bill held his wand out and uttered an incantation. The Squib stopped in his tracks. "Now, where was I? Yes…Mr. Armin Bargelmesser, I presume?" The man nodded.  
  
Bill started his polished and rehearsed repossession speech. He sounded peculiarly like his brother Percy. "I must insist, on behalf of the goblins of Gringotts' Bank, that you return the seven hundred and eight-nine Galleons and fifteen Knuts that you borrowed in trust from Gringotts' Bank two years ago, and kindly add one hundred seventy-five Galleons for interest. If you do not, I will be forced to take into possession the magical Volkswagen that you've acquired."  
  
Bargelmesser gulped. "I don't have the gold."  
  
"Where is the vehicle in question?"  
  
"At my home."  
  
"Very well, then…" Bill took hold of Bargelmesser's shoulder. "Let's Apparate there now."  
  
Bargelmesser and Bill appeared in the shabby apartment that the Squib had rented. A rat that looked a lot like Ron's old pet Scabbers nibbled on the carpet. Bill walked around the flat while Bargelmesser searched through piles of dirty laundry for the keys to the car.  
  
"Do you really have to take my car?"  
  
"I'm sorry, but you didn't repay your loan and my bosses don't like deadbeats," Bill lapsed back into his regular tone.  
  
Bargelmesser handed the keys to Bill. "Here," he grumbled.  
  
"Don't feel so bad. If you can repay the gold in forty-eight hours, you'll get your car back." Bill told him.  
  
Bill walked out of the flat and saw the Volkswagen parked on the side of the road. He combed the car over for any hex or jinx that Bargelmesser would have put on it, then slid into the driver's seat and started the car. The car had been modified to turn invisible and to fly, much like his father's old Ford did. Bill couldn't help but smile; he knew that his father would love to be in America, living amongst Muggles and having to find a way to blend in. Bill could imagine the first time that Arthur Weasley walked into a Starbucks.  
  
The Volkswagen began to lift in the air, and Bill switched to Invisibility Mode. Gringotts' had a branch in San Francisco, and the trip would be quick from Bargelmesser's home near Long Beach. Just a few hours and then he could Floo back to Boston and home.  
  
Bill delivered the vehicle to the goblins, who congratulated him on another job well done. Bill jumped into the warm fireplace and appeared in Gringotts' Boston offices, then quickly Apparated to his own cozy living room. It seemed so empty. It was times like this that he missed England. After almost fifteen years away from The Burrow, he still missed the raucous home life that he left behind. Being a goblin's repo man was hard work, and it left no time for starting a family. He wanted to turn back the hands of time, to ask his old girlfriend Fleur to marry him, to have a parcel of Weasleys like his own mum and dad did, but he knew that it was too late.   
  
"I wish I were home," he sighed. 


	2. Charlie

Weasleys In America  
  
DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction featuring characters in the Harry Potter series of books. I am not affiliated with J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., Scholastic, or any other large corporation with marketing or licensing rights to the Harry Potter universe.   
  
~~  
  
A week away from dragons! For Charlie Weasley, it meant no odd burns, venomous bites, or deep scratches on various body parts. It meant being able to smell fresh and clean all day, and it meant seeing something than the tail of a dragon.  
  
For his first weeklong vacation in two years, he decided to travel across the ocean to America, to explore the Muggle relics that he had always heard about from his father. Charlie didn't know what kind of adventure he'd get into, but he was sure that it would be less dangerous than the Chinese Fireball.  
  
Charlie decided to do it the Muggle way. He bought an airplane ticket and rented a hotel room for the entire vacation. He was worried about using Muggle money, but between Harry, Hermione, and his own brother Bill, he was convinced that he could survive for a week.  
  
Flying in a plane was a wonder in itself. He knew that none of the Muggles he was sitting with could imagine flying brooms, much less know the difference between a Clean Sweep Seven and a Cloudscraper 500, the broom he owned. For Muggles, this was the finest way to travel, and Charlie had to admit it was rather nice. Bill had warned him that not every Muggle he met would be as kind as Harry or Hermione, and he knew from Harry's discussions about the Dursleys that it was true. He was expecting angry people all around him, but he was pleasantly surprised. Friendly, pretty girls offered him pretzels and his choice of beverage (he had been told by Hermione to try a fizzy one called Sprite) and he was able to sit in a padded chair, which was actually much preferable to riding a thin, hard broom. He missed the wind in his hair and the fresh air in his nostrils, but it was definitely an interesting adventure already.  
  
When he landed at the airport, he grabbed his small duffel from the overhead compartment and started looking for the way out. He looked for a taxi and gave the driver the name of his hotel. During his ride, he looked around. New York City was, in many respects, a lot like London, except the Muggles drove on the wrong side of the street. Charlie chuckled a bit, and then continued to gaze in awe of the city around him.  
  
When Charlie stepped out of the taxi, he paid the cab driver and walked into the hotel. It was gleaming with polished marble and gold leaf, mahogany furniture, and crystal chandeliers. It was beautiful, but it reminded him of Gringotts' Bank, only cleaner.  
  
Charlie made it up to his room and breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, he could use a little magic to help him tidy up. He uttered a few incantations and his clothes hung themselves up. He sat on the bed and thought hard about how to work the "lecktric bulbs" and "fellyvision".  
  
"Lumos" he said – nothing. His dad didn't mention how to operate these! He was about to give up hope, then noticed a switch on the wall. Maybe this had something to do with it? He moved the switch up and suddenly, the room flooded with light. He clapped his hands in excitement.  
  
"Boy, Dad would positively die from happiness!" he laughed.  
  
The next object to tackle was that fellyvision. It was a big, black box, and to Charlie, it looked rather scary. He walked up to it and looked for a switch, then he began to poke at it with his wand. He saw a few buttons near the bottom, and he bent down to read them.  
  
"Power, channel, and volume," he read aloud. "I suppose I'll try Power first…"  
  
He pressed the button and the fellyvision turned on. Charlie jumped back in fright. He frantically searched for the Volume button, and pressed the minus sign repeatedly. The volume lowered, and Charlie began to search the Channel buttons. When he pressed it, he found that there were different scenes – Harry called them "programs" – with each change of channel. He kept going up until he found a weather channel.  
  
It was going to be a lovely day in New York City, with the highs in the low to mid 80's Fahrenheit. Charlie did some quick math in his head and pulled out a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. The t-shirt was green and had the logo of the Belfast Giants, a Quidditch team, on it. He was finally ready to make his way into the Muggle world.  
  
Charlie did every touristy thing possible during his week in New York. He caught a baseball game at Yankee Stadium, but fell asleep before the fifth inning. He had his picture taken in Times Square and he visited Central Park, but there was only one place left to go, and he saved it for his last full day in the States.  
  
He had always heard of the Statue of Liberty. For Muggles, it was the gateway to freedom, the welcoming, friendly face of a new world; but for those in the American Wizarding community, the Statue of Liberty meant an end to a persecution that started in Salem in the early part of the nation's history. When the giant statue was built, it fulfilled a prophecy by Temperence Hewson, great-niece of famous Seer Cassandra Trelawney: The Grand Lady stands to welcome all/The Muggle and the Witch/United as one.  
  
The very year the Statue of Liberty was built, the Conference of North American Witchcraft was started, which gave a voice to mistreated witches and wizards throughout America, and soon became a symbol of independence to all witches worldwide.  
  
Charlie was excited to see this icon of freedom for himself, and when he stepped onto Liberty Island, he wept for joy. During the war against the Dark Lord, he had regained an appreciation for the freedom he had, and a deep gratitude for the many brave souls who fought for it. As he looked out upon the New World from the tiara of the Grand Lady, he saw a city where Muggles and wizards lived together in relative harmony, and it was beautiful. Hidden in the arms of America, Charlie Weasley never felt more proud to be a wizard. 


	3. Percy

Weasleys In America  
  
DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction featuring characters in the Harry Potter series of books. I am not affiliated with J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., Scholastic, or any other large corporation with marketing or licensing rights to the Harry Potter universe.  
  
~~  
  
The room had all the trappings of wealth and privilege. A few Secret Service men stood around, providing surveillance. The Wizarding Secretary of State, Iona LaFollette, held out her hand to the Attaché from Great Britain who stood before her. The tall, willowy, well-dressed man with horn-rimmed glasses smiled and kissed her hand.  
  
"Madam Secretary, on behalf of the United Kingdom, I am pleased to be here," he said.  
  
Secretary LaFollette smiled despite herself. The ambassador was suave and well mannered, and he made an immediate impression on her. "Welcome to the United States of America. I trust you will be comfortable during your stay." She turned to the small crowd gathered in the foyer. "May I introduce to you the Ambassador from the Ministry of Magic in the United Kingdom, Mr. Percival Weasley."  
  
Flashbulbs exploded all around Percy, and a few journalists barked a handful of questions. He kept his smile through the whole ordeal, then he and Madam LaFollette left the room to discuss the topic at hand – the severe shortage of instructors in American Wizarding institutions and the number of green cards given to British teachers to fill the void.  
  
~~  
  
Percy Weasley had shot through the ranks of the Ministry of Magic. At the age of 30, he had achieved more than he had imagined, and now he was the Ministry's envoy to the United States. This trip was his first as an official representative. Only a day ago, he had kissed his wife and young son goodbye and used a Portkey to the Magical Congressional Building, located underneath the Muggles' own Senate building in Washington, D.C.  
  
This was the realization of his dreams, penultimate to becoming Minister of Magic. His career was everything to him. After all these years, he still didn't understand how his father would give everything up to stay in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office and spend more time with his brothers and sisters. To Percy, nothing was more important than making a success in his own life. He could always have more time with his fledgling family.  
  
Percy's relationship with his parents and a few of his brothers were strained after his decision to stand in ordinance with the Ministry of Magic the year after Percy graduated from Hogwarts, but he was able to patch up with most of them after Ron's graduation. Now and then, the old grudges came back (particularly with Ron), but Percy managed to keep everything civil. It seemed that his life was finally complete.  
  
~~  
  
Madam LaFollette offered Percy a cup of tea and a small poppy seed muffin. "Mr. Weasley, I think we can agree that the United States will offer a seven year green card to any citizen of the British Commonwealth who is gainfully employed as an educator."  
  
"Secretary LaFollette, I thank you, the Minister thanks you, and the British people thank you. I believe that, on our end of the bargain, we can agree that the British will lower the tariff on imported hardwood brooms, but only those handcrafted for the Quidditch market. We have enough problems with stateside broom sales." Percy pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose and smiled. He knew he had succeeded in his first task, and it only meant laurels for him.   
  
Secretary LaFollette settled into her armchair and drank her cup of tea. "I believe we can agree on that, Mr. Weasley. We have a deal. So, Percy, let's talk about you. I like to get to know the people I work with."  
  
"Well, as you know, I am the youngest magical ambassador from Great Britain in almost two hundred and seventeen years. I've been working for the Ministry for about…"  
  
"No, Percy, I mean, you. Your family. Tell me about your life."  
  
The question stunned Percy for a moment. He had forgotten that many Americans had the habit of asking personal questions of strangers. Percy began, "I suppose I could talk about that. I have a wife, Penelope, and we have a little boy, William, who is eleven months old. I come from a large family."  
  
"How many brothers and sisters do you have?"  
  
"I have five brothers and one sister." The tops of Percy's ears flushed. He didn't want to talk about his family – what about the many fine things he had done with the Ministry?  
  
Iona LaFollette smiled gracefully. "Percy, don't you miss your family? I mean, you're all alone here in Washington. Don't you wish you could go home and hug your wife and your child?"  
  
"Madam LaFollette, I am here on business, so naturally, I'm not thinking about my family."  
  
"You know, my husband's a lot like you."  
  
"I would very much like to meet him."  
  
Iona sighed. "I wish you could meet him. Delbert is dead. He worked himself to death."  
  
"Nonsense! You can't work yourself to death!" Percy was incredulous.  
  
"Mr. Weasley, I assure you, you can, and he did. The last thing he said was 'I'm late to my meeting.' He had a heart attack. Just a friendly bit of advice, son…don't wait until it's too late to tell your family how much you love them, and to show them that you do. Now, if you'll excuse me…" she stood up.  
  
Percy followed her example. "Again, thank you, Secretary LaFollette. The Minister will be pleased with your decision."  
  
When Percy returned to his hotel room, he thought about what Iona LaFollette had told him. It troubled him greatly that perfect strangers were giving him life advice, but the more he thought about it, the more he wondered why she would think he was like her late husband. Was his devotion to his job actually deadly? Did his father really have the right idea when it came to his career? Was Percy looking at a long, lonely road of alienation from his son? He thought about Iona's counsel - don't wait until it's too late to tell your family how much you love them, and to show them that you do. He had made that mistake before, and it almost cost him his father and brothers. He knew what he had to do.  
  
Percy packed his bags and left a note with the front desk of the hotel. He took a deep breath, and reached for the Portkey. 


	4. Fred and George

Weasleys In America  
  
DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction featuring characters in the Harry Potter series of books. I am not affiliated with J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., Scholastic, or any other large corporation with marketing or licensing rights to the Harry Potter universe.  
  
~~  
  
The two men strode into the large building, filled to the rafters with jinxed candy, magical larks, and all sorts of mischief-makers. They were identical in looks and in height. They both had cheery freckled faces and bright red hair. One wore an acid green robe with electric blue stripes on the sleeves; the other wore a yellow robe with orange polka dots. They turned to each other and smiled.  
  
"Who knew that we'd break the American market?" the wizard in the yellow robe asked, awestruck, as more people poured into the store.   
  
"Oi! I always knew."  
  
"Sure, Professor Trelawney!"  
  
The duo laughed heartily. They looked around the store, where hundreds of wizards stood, waiting for the grand opening. When the gathering of children and their parents caught a glimpse of the pair, they applauded.  
  
An attractive blond witch in deep magenta robes stood and addressed the crowd. She tapped her throat with her wand and suddenly, her voice magnified as if she were speaking through a megaphone.  
  
She said, "Ladies and gentlemen, we'd like to welcome you to Weasley Brothers' Prank Emporium, a division of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes of London, Limited! It's my honor to present the Weasley brothers to you in a moment, but first, I will give a brief history of the tomfoolery that is Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.  
  
"Both Fred and George Weasley have a genius for practical jokes," she continued. "Even during their years at venerable Hogwarts School, the twins spent more time and energy into mastering their fake wands than studying for their O.W.L.s. Finally, in their seventh year, the twins left the school in a dramatic fashion and opened their own joke shop, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, located in the heart of downtown Wizarding London. Word of mouth spread about the cramped storefront on the tail end of Diagon Alley selling unique and ingenious items, and by the end of that first year, the store had grown in popularity. The twins started out small. They stayed in their first location for a few years until they could easily afford to move to a larger store, located near Quality Quidditch Supplies. Eventually, the Weasley brothers decided to expand to the United States, and after much research, chose to open their flagship location in here in beautiful Los Angeles. There's no stopping the Weasley twins!"  
  
The group around the stage gave a wild round of applause. The blond witch resumed her speech. "And now, it's time to let these two talented men speak for themselves! Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, it is my pleasure to introduce Mr. George Weasley!"  
  
George, the man in the yellow robe, stood and waved to the crowd, then gave the blond in the magenta robes a small kiss on the cheek. "Thank you for your warm welcome. This is our first venture overseas, and we hope that you come to rely on Weasley Brothers for all of your trouble making needs. Now, I would like to introduce my brother and partner, Fred Weasley!"  
  
The wizard in the green robe stood up and shook the other's hand. "Thank you, George. As I'm sure you know by now, my brother George and I started our empire ten years ago. It has been regarded as the finest wizarding joke shop in the known universe, and we work hard to ensure you can play hard. As a grand opening special, George and I will include in each order a twenty count box of our famous Canary Creams absolutely free!"  
  
The crowd roared its approval, and George and Fred exited the stage to mingle with them. A gaggle of girls walked around with a large bag of Levitation Taffy and Nosebleed Nougats, scaring their parents and giggling. George nudged Fred and smiled. "Another satisfied customer, aye, Gred?"   
  
Fred nodded in agreement. "Sometimes, I wish Dad would just leave the whole Ministry thing to the Ambassador of Gits and come work for us."  
  
His twin laughed heartily. "Old Perce would probably want to tax our shop out of business if he heard you talking like that."  
  
"The only way he could," Fred replied, "is if he bought some of our Extendable Ears, but he's too proper to do such a thing."  
  
"Oi! Look at that kid there!"  
  
A tall Hispanic boy was eyeing the Juggling Juice. He scratched his head and started to read the back of the bottle. George walked over to him.  
  
"Hello, mate! Have any questions about our Juggling Juice? Would you like a free demonstration?"  
  
The child shook his head yes. George opened the bottle, guzzled half of it, and then grimaced. Suddenly, a third hand appeared from his torso. "See?" George said to the delighted lad, who started to chuckle, "It makes juggling incredibly easy!"  
  
The third hand waved goodbye and slinked back into George's chest. The throng around George clapped appreciatively.  
  
Fred and George finally made their way through the crowd and left the building. Fred turned to his brother in wonderment. "Didja ever think we'd come this far?"  
  
~~  
  
The twins relaxed in their room at a posh wizarding hotel in Malibu. The sea crashed outside of their window as the gulls circled the rocks below.  
  
"It's beyond anything I could have ever dreamed," George said in awe as the pair watched the sun set lower into the ocean. "Sometimes I think I am still dreaming."  
  
"I know," Fred replied in a soft voice, "Mum never could have imagined that her two prankster sons would be the ones who opened a successful worldwide business."  
  
"I think she is really proud of us."  
  
Fred nodded. "I know Dad is, despite coming down on us for leaving school. The old man always had faith in us."  
  
George smiled, and the two brothers looked out the window at the night sky. As the surf roared, the two talked about their future plans for Weasley Brothers' Prank Emporium and for their own lives together. In life and in business, there could never be a better partner than the person you love most…your best friend…your brother.  
  
~~  
  
Author's Note: I hope everyone enjoys the entertaining products that can be purchased at Fred and George's shop. I've looked through the books and tried to find a few products available in the canon, but I've added a few to flesh out the scenes. If you liked the Juggling Juice idea, please let me know! It's my favorite! If you're writing a story about Fred and George's shop and you'd like to use any of my made-up products, go ahead, but please thank me, weasleywheezes, in your author notes. 


	5. Ron

Weasleys In America  
  
DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction featuring characters in the Harry Potter series of books. I am not affiliated with J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., Scholastic, or any other large corporation with marketing or licensing rights to the Harry Potter universe.  
  
~~  
  
It was the final game of the three game series against the Wisconsin Cranes. The Belfast Giants, one of the most successful Quidditch teams in the world, were in the lead. The score was eighty to sixty, and the Snitch was particularly hard to find. Todd Olafsson, the Seeker for Wisconsin, was unusually fast and his eyes were used to the artificial turf that the Cranes used on their field. Belfast had to use diversionary tactics, and fast, if they wanted to keep Olafsson on his toes.  
  
High above the activity sat a redhead on a sleek, highly polished broom, wearing the shamrock green robes of the Giants. Like his mentor, Harry Potter, he found it easier to look for the elusive Snitch while higher in the air. He saw a glint near the Cranes' goalpost, and he swooped toward the ground, a blurry streak of green.  
  
He saw a light blue robe speeding toward him. It was Davenport, the Cranes' Keeper. The redhead pulled out of his dive, and the Snitch disappeared. The Wisconsin crowd, dressed in Crane blue and wearing foam rubber cheese witch hats, screamed their approval at Davenport's brilliant play. The Cranes were playing their A game and it showed.  
  
"The Red Rocket misses the Snitch, but Belfast is still in the lead," the announcer said.  
  
Two of the Giants' chasers, Martinson-Young and McAdo, circled the seeker to discuss their plan of attack.  
  
"Ron, you've never let us down! I know you can do it," McAdo said, her ponytail whipping in the wind.  
  
"Weasley, don't get the Snitch until we've scored at least one hundred and twenty points," Martinson-Young ordered, then bolted toward the other side of the field.  
  
Ron looked around, trying to stop Olafsson from seeing the golden glint of the Snitch and heading toward it. He flew a few bogus passes, but knew that Olafsson didn't know where the Snitch was, either.  
  
Emerald green zipped through the air, the Quaffle bouncing between chasers. Martinson-Young, the captain of the team, lead the way, followed by McAdo and Kelly, another Giants chaser. Daniel North, Belfast's bludger, kept the Cranes' lead bludger, Luebke, from knocking Martinson-Young off of his broom. Luebke's comrade, Grace, pulled up beside North and created a distraction.  
  
The announcer was keyed up. "Luebke and Grace, whoa mama! They've pulled a fast one on North and now Dibble and Vladic have the Quaffle! North regains his ground and is chasing after Vladic…whoa! The Giants' keeper, Nalepinksi, is on fire! Another goal saved by Nalepinksi."  
  
The game went on for another hour with no goals being made and no Snitches being found. Vladic and Kelly were in combat, stealing the Quaffle from each other. Olafsson kept flying high above the game, his eye focused on finding the Golden Snitch. The little gold ball flew by Ron's head, and then it hid again. Ron knew that Olafsson would not try to grab the ball until they had scored at least two more goals.  
  
The game was tense. Dibble pulled McAdo's hair, and a penalty point was given to Belfast. On a fast break toward Wisconsin's goal, Firth, the other bludger for Belfast, knocked Grace off his broom, but not without injury. Firth suffered a broken arm, and play was halted.  
  
"Firth looks like he's in serious pain," the announcer said. "They will bring in a replacement for Firth…looks like Van Houten will take his place. The crowd is livid. What's this? Ladies and gentlemen, Grace is back on his broom!"  
  
The crowd cheered loudly for Grace, who flew a figure eight in appreciation. Van Houten took her place next to North on the field. The referee gave a penalty point to Wisconsin, and the score was one hundred all.  
  
Martinson-Young flew by Ron and screamed, "Forget what I said! Do it now!" Luebke, who had a mad gleam in his eye, was chasing him. The Cranes meant business, and Ron knew that Olafsson would do anything to get the Snitch.  
  
"The Red Rocket is making his move," the announcer called, "followed closely by Todd Olafsson. Whoa, Vladic, watch out for the beater!"  
  
The crowd was roaring. Kelly had a busted lip; which wouldn't stop bleeding. All the players on the Quidditch field had scratches and bruises. Ron kept his eye out for the Snitch, but kept watching Olaffson, who tailed him.  
  
The announcer's voice rose in pitch, his exhilaration tangible. "Grace chasing McAdo, watch out lady! That was a close one. Here comes Martinson-Young…Martinson-Young has the Quaffle! He's flying down the stretch, Grace is on him, Martinson-Young delivers a mighty throw…yes! The ball sneaks by Jenny Davenport! Belfast up one hundred and twenty!"  
  
Jeers erupted from the raucous mob below. The announcer continued, "Luebke is after Weasley! The Red Rocket is rocketing down the field; Luebke is on his tail! North zooms beside Luebke and whoa, mama! The Red Rocket is living up to his name, zipping past the Cranes toward the middle of the pitch!"  
  
Olafsson's blond hair made a white streak as he zipped past Ron. "Oh, crap," he said, "he's got the Snitch!"  
  
"The Red Rocket's pulling away! It looks as though Todd Olafsson is going to…what's this? No! Olafsson's pulling up, also! The Cranes are no closer to the Snitch than Weasley himself is!" The announcer was beside himself with excitement. "The battle of the seekers continues! Who will it be, Weasley the Rocket, or Steady Heady Olafsson?"  
  
Martinson-Young streaked past again and hissed instructions to Ron. "Please, we're getting murdered out here!"  
  
Ron nodded his head in agreement. He doubled his efforts to find the Snitch, but he couldn't help but feel he was snatching defeat from the jaws of victory. Olafsson sped past him in a zigzag motion. Ron knew that the time to find the little winged ball was now, or else the Giants were going to lose this match.  
  
Ron flew high in the air with a swift, acrobatic motion. Suddenly, he saw the Snitch! It was near Davenport again. He set his jaw and flew like a bat out of hell toward it. Olafsson was nowhere in sight. He reached out his hand and…  
  
"He did it! The Red Rocket grabbed the Snitch!" 


	6. Ginny

Ginny's last year as Muggle Studies teacher at Sylvan Hills Academy of Sorcery was bittersweet. She was happy to be going home to England at the end of the year, yet sad to be leaving such a great school, such wonderful students, but most of all, sad to be leaving Dr. Peyton Holt.  
  
Dr. Holt was Ginny's colleague at Sylvan Hills. He taught Defense of the Dark Arts. Dr. Holt and Ginny were the youngest teachers at the school, Ginny being 29 and Dr. Holt, 32. Being the youngest professors in a school would naturally bring two people together, and it did. The two would often collaborate on classes together, especially during the week-long Dark Arts history lesson, when Ginny would recount her involvement with the defeat of the greatest Dark wizard of them all, Lord Voldemort. Soon, their professional relationship turned into a close friendship.  
  
At first glance, it seemed that the two had nothing in common. Ginny Weasley, a petite redhead with pale features, was the youngest of seven from a poor English family. She was unusually bright, and did very well at Hogwarts School. Ginny was able to go to a prestigious university in France on a full paid scholarship. On the other hand, Peyton Holt was the only child of a prosperous Wizarding family from Fayetteville. Tall, broad shoulders, with lustrous black hair and bright blue eyes; he was a graceful Quidditch player until a terrible accident ruined his chances of being a professional. He turned his attention to his favorite subject, Defense of the Dark Arts, and attended Rothschild University, the Yale of American Wizarding institutions, where he graduated summa cum laude. Peyton then studied with the masters in Romania and New Orleans for two years before taking the job at Sylvan Hills Academy.  
  
He still carried himself like an athlete, a "gunslinger" as the locals called the more self-assured Quidditch players. Dr. Holt's soft Southern drawl intrigued Ginny, who loved the way he said "Ms. Weasley". She soon grew to love him, yet knew that because she had to return to England eventually, it would be a terrible idea to get involved with him. She tried her hardest to keep it platonic.  
  
Their last evening together before she returned to England started quite normally. While living in Arkansas, Ginny had fallen in love with fried catfish, and Peyton took her to her favorite restaurant in the nearest Muggle town. He met her at Louise's Fish House, wearing a first-rate wool suit of the deepest blue to bring out his sparkling eyes. Ginny, on the other hand, wore an emerald green dress, which played up her coloring. She smiled when he pulled her chair out to seat her.  
  
"Good evening, Dr. Holt," Ginny said. "You're such a gentleman! Is today a special occasion?"  
  
"It might very well be a special occasion, Ms. Weasley. My, my, you look lovely," he drawled. Ginny giggled like a love struck schoolgirl.  
  
The couple sat, talking about the many adventures they had had over the years with the many students in their classes. Dr. Holt recalled the boggart in the cupboard that scared one of Ginny's students, and Ginny reminded him about the first time a child fainted during her lecture about Voldemort. They laughed and smiled like lovers at the table, and then the conversation turned to Ginny's departure the next day.  
  
"Ms. Weasley, I wish you could stay."   
  
"As do I, but my green card has expired, and I know that my family misses me."  
  
The good doctor hid his eyes from her gaze. "I…I will miss you," he whispered shyly.  
  
Ginny turned a deep shade of pink. "I will miss you too, Peyton…er, Dr. Holt. In fact, I was wondering if you would like to visit me in England over the summer?"  
  
"Yes! I mean, of course. How long?"  
  
"Oh, well, maybe a week. Maybe two. However long you would like to stay," Ginny said. "My family would love to meet you. I've told them so much about you. I'm sure my brothers would like to talk Quidditch."  
  
It was Dr. Holt's turn to blush slightly. "You've told your parents about me? I would be honored to meet them."  
  
Ginny smiled. Her heart thrilled that, just perhaps, there was a future for her and Peyton after all.  
  
Peyton took her hand and stroked it softly. "You know how much I enjoy your company. Has anyone ever told you how extraordinarily wonderful you are?"  
  
"My family has, and Harry and Hermione…"  
  
The waitress intruded on their conversation, startling them. "Hon, want some more sweet tea?"   
  
"Uh, sure, yes, please," Peyton said, as the waitress placed their plates filled with hush puppies, corn on the cob and fried catfish on the table.  
  
They sat in an awkward silence for a few moments. Ginny paid an exorbitant amount of attention to the Sweet'n'Low packets. Peyton swallowed hard. He took her hand again. There was a slight twinkle in his eyes.  
  
Peyton faltered for words. "Where were we?"  
  
Ginny cleared her throat. His hands were so comforting, soft yet rough, with the work-a-day calluses of an honest man. They were the hands of someone who could cradle and protect her. "You said something about me being special."  
  
"I meant every word I said, Ms. Weasley. In fact, you're very special. I've never met another person like you. These last few years, we've worked close together. We've shared so much, good times, bad times, our dreams for the future."   
  
Ginny realized that something serious was going on. It was unlike Dr. Holt to be so sensitive. "I don't understand…" Ginny said, her eyes welling with tears.  
  
Peyton let go of Ginny's hand. "No, I mean…" he sighed and shook his head. He had a nervous expression. "We've shared a lot over the years, and I want to share more with you." His voice was husky with emotion. They looked into each other's eyes, neither one sure what the other would do. "My dreams for the future include…my life wouldn't be right without…I mean, I love you, Ginny. Do you feel the same?"  
  
"Oh!"  
  
The fish was never eaten. 


End file.
